With the introduction of Snapchat’s ~all the rage~ lenses, our sometimes-more-than-tipsy selves will have ample opportunity to express ourselves in 10 seconds or less when we find the need in the wee hours of the morning. Whether those expressions are a good idea or not is another matter entirely. So, without further ado, we give you a night out, told through Snapchat lenses:
Five, four, three, two, one: work’s over. It’s 5:00pm on Friday, and it’s time to live it up for the weekend. You’ve already knocked back two ciders at work, so it’s time to head to the pub with your coworkers to continue what you started.
You take a snap of yourself regurgitating rainbows and set it as your snapstory. You’re just so damn excited.
At the pub, you have a grand old time with your coworkers, having switched from cider to beer. You take a group picture in demon mode and send it to the dedicated employees still at your office. Work can wait, it’s Friday.
Once an hour or so has gone by, you start making plans with other friends. And then, to your dismay, you receive a snap from one of your roommates looking about 90 years old. She’s not coming out tonight. You lament her absence, and then persevere. There’s still hope for a legendary evening.
You head home, get ready with your other roommates, down a glass of wine, and head to the first bar of the night. Upon arrival, you see the line wrapped around the block. You take a selfie and capture your outrage with googly eyes and a wide mouth. Blasphemy.
You ditch the first bar, and march on to the next. But halfway there, one of your friends (who has had one too many) wanders away. You put on your night vision lens, send a video to your friends, and hunt her down. Detective to the rescue. After a couple false alarms, you find her.
Finally, you arrive to your destination, and get right in. You and your roommates head directly to the bar, get a couple cocktails, and meander over to the dance floor. You dance the night away, reveling in your youth. Eventually, you know it’s time to head home.
In the cab, you send the cute guy you met a selfie of you with hearts for eyes. You know that sober you will hate this in the morning, but oh well. He sends you one right back. But, now he’s the one regurgitating rainbows with the caption, “you’re not my type.” UGH. Now the dirty shirlies he was drinking make a lot more sense.
You get home and jump into bed. You send one last selfie to your friends crying oversized tears because you’re convinced you’ll die alone.
So thank you, Snapchat. Once again you have found ways to make us want something we never knew we wanted in the first place. Now, all you have to do is find a way to digitally send booze, and then you’ll be golden.